The man who had taken matters in his own hands and helped put over the vote for the increase of capital stock without the formality of first finding out what it was all about, popped up and said, “You had no right to tell them that.” He insisted that I should make the complaint. And the surprising thing is, he had some supporters. There were some hard losers in the group. I had not made the investigation with the intention of filing a complaint—wouldn’t have accepted the assignment had it carried any such provision. I don’t like fussing. Then, too, the president and the land owner had not solicited me to buy stock, nor made promise to me that the fund would be used to complete the well. Their contact had been with Dr. Lapham and other members of the group. I went in with them solely because my neighbors had invited me to join them, and because I didn’t want to stand idly by—and watch them make a “killing.” However, on invitation, I went up to Dr. Lapham’s office at the virtual close of a “pep” meeting, after the check-writing had begun. I asked for information as to how the company was organized—particularly as to whether or not the stock was non-assessable? The president and the land-owner really didn’t know. But they went to Topeka the next day and secured a transcript of the incorporation papers, which were acceptable. And I was invited to go before the adjourned meeting the following evening, and voice my approval. Then the check writing was resumed. Also, my conscience told me, in a flash, that it would be a rather poor spirited person who should wish to send his neighbor “up” for the mistake of keeping bad company. It looked as if our old farmer-neighbor had been caught in between two fires, and didn’t know which way to “jump”—or worse still, that there was now no open way out. Thus, it may be said, that our old Bancroft farmer-friend, in his most uncomfortable position, was comparable to the banker held as hostage by a bold gang of robbers who had just looted his bank. I know. I spent two days with the dispirited old man in the oil field. The Blue Sky Board was fostered to check on promotions whose stocks were strongly, if not wholly, tinctured with the azure blue. Along about 1905-06-07 questionable promotions—mostly mining—sprang up all over the country. Kansas City had several going full blast at one time. I had occasion to call on one of them; had arranged the meeting through correspondence. I entered a very large room where perhaps thirty or forty girl-typists were busily preparing literature to be sent out by mail to inquirers secured through newspaper advertisements. The printed portion of the literature had been prepared by “experts” copy-writers—and it is surprising how those fellows could make an inferior proposition appeal to the gullible.